Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Haiti and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Second Layer to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Pylon. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Steve Hackett,
The Leaves,
The Modern Lovers,
Crooked Eye,
Index,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Newcleus,
Deadbeat,
Pere Ubu,
Black Moon,
Pole,
The Gories,
Ten City,
Technova,
The Zeros,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Monks,
The Smoke,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yellowson,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sandy B,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lightning Bolt,
Duran Duran,
John Coltrane,
Fluxion,
The Dirtbombs,
Clear Light,
Ice-T,
Lou Christie,
Maleditus Sound,
Swell Maps,
UT,
Neu!,
MDC,
Slick Rick,
The Beau Brummels,
Johnny Osbourne,
JFA,
Joey Negro,
Outsiders,
Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
Parry Music,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kenny Larkin,
The Red Krayola,
Deakin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fuzztones,
Spandau Ballet,
Public Image Ltd.,
Theoretical Girls,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.